Boulevard of Broken Dreams
by PixxieHolloww
Summary: Songfic. A view into one of the most sickening minds in the Wizarding World: Tom Riddle. Take a look at his fall from grace as he slowly turns into the most feared Dark Lord in all of Europe.


**No, I'm not dead. I've just been very busy. To all my alerters, I'm sorry if this isn't what you were expecting. I know you were probably waiting for a new chapter or an A:tLA story, but I just felt that I needed to get this out first. I hope you guys enjoy and I also wish that new readers would like it too. Review!**

**EDIT: Yes, I have editted the fic. A helpful reviewer was kind enough to point out my mistakes, so I decided to edit it for everyone else to read in contentment. If you find any more flaws, don't hesitate to tell me.**

**I own nothing.**

* * *

**_I walk a lonely road  
The only one that I have ever known  
Don't know where it goes  
But it's home to me and I walk alone_**

June 13, 1945

"Goodbye, Mr. Riddle. I hope you make the right decisions once you walk out of this castle. There are many careers you can pursue, I just hope that you pursue the right one. In fact, I've heard of an opening in the Department of Mysteries. I could put in a good word for you, Smith and I go way back."

"There is no need for that, Headmaster Dippet. I'm not too keen on working with the Ministry immediately, but I'll take your advice and...follow my dreams, as some say." said Tom Riddle. Even though he has officially graduated half an hour ago, he felt it was still best to show - or at least, feign - respect for his teachers. You never know what use they might have in the future.

"Very well, then. I hope you enjoy your last day here at Hogwarts, my boy. And I also wish you the best of luck in the future." the old Headmaster said, walking away towards the parents of Abraxas Malfoy.

Tom's polite smile quickly turned into a scowl, and he trudged out of the Great Hall, growing sick of watching the festivities. He walked towards the entrance of the Slytherin Common Room to fetch his things and leave. Nobody would notice his absence, anyway, with other students too busy rejoicing with peers and relatives. Just as he was about to say the password, he heard footsteps behind him, and quickly drew out his wand, turning around to face whoever it was.

"Mr. Riddle, it would please me if you could kindly put away your wand. I want to have a talk with you before you leave." Dumbledore said. Tom put away his wand cautiously. Though he was capable of wandless magic, he still had no idea what the Transfiguration professor was capable of.

"What is it?" Tom snapped impatiently. He had a certain dislike for his teacher, and he was aware that the feeling was mutual.

"I'm aware that you framed Rubeus Hagrid to get him expelled, and I know about the events of the Chamber of Secrets. Tom, please, make the right decisions. Don't stray from the path of Light." Dumbledore said.

"I don't need your advice. I'm aware of what I have to achieve, and I know how to go about getting there."

"Just make the right decisions, Tom. Don't close any of the doors open to you now, because you may never open them again."

"I know which door I'm going through, and I don't need your help to decide." he said coldly, walking through the portrait hole after whispering the password - "Serpent's Blood"

He stalked into his dormitory, and gathered the few belongings he had. He looked over his four-poster bed, then at the Head badge that he left on the bedside table. A strange feeling washed over him as he stared at the bed he had slept in for the last seven years.

"It might not be much," he thought, "_but it's home to me._"

**_I walk this empty street  
On the boulevard of broken dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk alone_**

November 1, 1945

"My followers, our time is drawing near. Soon, we will have the entire Wizarding world under our grasp. We just need patience. We have lots of time." Tom told his followers, staring at the ring on the middle finger of his right hand. He smirked, remembering the day he had turned it into his first Horcrux. After that incident, two more followed, the diary and a cup once owned by Helga Hufflepuff. Yes, he had plenty of time.

"My Lord, if I may, when will this plan be put into ac-" asked one of his new recruits. It was a distant relative of the Blacks, if he remembered correctly.

"Silence, fool!" Tom thundered. "When the plan is set into motion, you will all be notified. And for daring to question my plans, you must be punished. Malfoy, Black! Seize him!"

He stepped away from the shadows, and into the light, showing his deformed features. His face was pale, and his brown hair had small, barely noticeable streaks of grey shot through. His once steel-like eyes had acquired a reddish glint. He stared down at the helpless Death Eater before him, who was already on his knees and begging for mercy, arms held behind his back by Abraxas Malfoy and Cygnus Black.

"Crucio!"

The screams of the Death Eater echoed across all four walls of the room they were meeting in, a secret basement in Malfoy Manor. Other Death Eaters flinched at the horrific screeches, while the female followers, though few, looked away, faces green from the sight.

Tom Riddle - known to his followers as Lord Voldemort - morphed his face into a displeased sneer. He cut off the spell and turned away.

"_Obliviate_ his memory and leave. I will see you all during the next meeting. Now go; _the city sleeps_."

**_I walk alone  
I walk alone  
I walk alone  
I walk a..._**

April 12, 1946

"So, we meet again, Mr. Riddle." Tom looked up from his meal and stared into the face of Albus Dumbledore. "What a pleasant surprise," the professor added.

"Not very pleasant, _professor."_Tom replied, using the word as if it were a horrendous curse that could rival that of an Unforgivable. Hoping that Dumbledore wouldn't recognize the change in his physical attributes, he abruptly stood up and pushed back his chair, intent on leaving the Leaky Cauldron without incident. Luck was not with him, and soon after he left the establishment, he felt Dumbledore grab hold of his arm.

"Tom, I want to talk to you about some things. Please, walk with me." Tom looked at him and saw that Albus has aged in the many months that they haven't spoken, but he still had no mercy for his old teacher.

He roughly pulled his arm from Dumbledore, and turned away from him.

"_I walk alone._"

**_My shadow's only one  
that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only  
thing that's beatin'  
Sometimes I wish someone out  
there will find me  
Till then I'll walk alone_**

June 30, 1956

Tom cast a Disillusionment Charm on the corpse of his latest victim, an Albanian Muggle who got on his nerves. He then kicked the body into the river, knowing very well that nobody would find it, and if they did, nobody would know that it was him. He used the death of this stupid peasant to create his fifth Horcrux - the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.

He walked briskly towards the outskirts of the town. His appearance has by now changed drastically. Only a slight amount of color appeared on his cheeks, and his eyes were already blood red. His fingers have started getting bony, although that was hardly noticeable. His hair, through the help of a Charm, was still completely brown, with a few streaks of grey to keep up appearances.

He had an important meeting tomorrow, and it wouldn't do well for that old kook to recognize the changes made by his Horcruxes. Once inside the empty forest, he took out the diadem and aparrated into Malfoy Manor.

July 1, 1956

"Mr. Riddle, please sit." Dumbledore said when Tom entered the room. He gave a curt nod and sat down. He had already hidden the diadem in the Room of Requirements, now all he had to do was get the job he wanted.

"I understand that you want the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Tom replied. He smirked, knowing fully well that Dumbledore would give in.

"No."

"What?!" Tom exclaimed, standing up from his seat. He slammed his hands on the desk and looked straight into Dumbledore's eyes. The room was silent, except for the faint sound of Fawkes singing outside the room.

"What are you hiding?" Tom thought, trying to look deep into the Headmaster's mind. "He's blocking me! I should've known Dumbledore was capable of Occulemency."

Standing straight, Tom ran a hand through his hair, then looked back at the aging professor.

"I am _more _than capable of teaching some dumb First Years how to use Protego! I am _more _than capable of handling this position!" He snapped, furious. "Why. Not. Me?"

"Because of your temper, Mr. Riddle. And I'm not quite sure how things would work out if you were around our students. Your job is to teach them how to defend themselves, and I find that it might be unhealthy for you to associate your self with Dark Magic. These are kids, you have to show them compassion. Your heart is much too shallow to be around them."

"Shallow? You're rejecting me, the best student this damn school has ever seen, because my heart is _shallow_? What kind of a school are you running? You'll regret the day that you rejected my application!"

Tom shook his head and left, furious. When he closed the door he walked briskly towards the DADA office. Making sure that no one saw him, he cast a powerful spell on the room, so that no one may stay as teacher in that position for more than a year. The spell would jinx that person, so that they may be unable to teach for a second term.

He left the school in a flurry of robes, a smirk upon his face despite the rejection. He would get even soon enough. "That would show them," he thought, "rejecting me, because of _my shallow heart._"

**_I'm walking down the line  
That divides me somewhere in my mind  
On the border line of the edge  
And where I walk alone_**

July, 1964

Tom, now fully known as Lord Voldemort, stepped up onto the platform, looking over at his followers.

"Our time is drawing near! Soon, all muggles and mudbloods will meet their demise! Half-bloods will be turned into slaves! And all purebloods shall rule under my command!" Cheers erupted from his Death Eaters, as well as various pureblood families that are deciding whether or not to join in Voldemort's campaign.

"Anyone who dares to oppose me, shall rot six feet under the ground!" More cheers and cat calls came from the Death Eaters, while the more reserved cronies, like the Malfoys, clapped their hand excitedly instead. After the applause died down, Voldemort continued on with his speech.

"The Ministry don't know what's coming, and Dumbledore doesn't either. We shall become above the Ministry, we shall be more powerful than Grindelwald, and I, as your leader, will be so feared that nobody shall dare to even utter my name!

"Now go, you must all go back. I will call you when something of great importance comes to my attention. Leave at once!" his loud voice boomed. All the Death Eaters apparated out of the basement, except for Abraxas and his wife, who simply scurried up the steps towards the main floor of the Manor.

Voldemort turned around, walking slowly towards a secret panel in the wall. Aiming his wand at the door, he muttered a password and that section of the wall slid out of view, exposing a hidden room. He walked over to a glass cupboard, and took out one of his most prized posessions, a ring once owned by his maternal grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt.

"Out of all my Horcruxes, this is probably the one I had put the most effort into, because I was still young at that time," he thought to himself. "More so than all the others, this truly is the one _that divides me_."

_**Read between the lines what's  
Fucked up and everything's all right  
Checked my vital signs to  
Know I'm still alive  
And I walk alone**_

September, 1969

Voldemort stood in front of a mirror in the guest suite of Malfoy Manor. He had used Transfiguration spells to give the luxurious space a darker, slightly scarier look. The walls and floor were made of dark marble, and he had Vanished the bed and other furniture, for he had no need for them. A throne sat in the middle of the room, with a blood red armchair facing the fireplace. The walls were stacked with books on the Dark Arts, as well as some magical history and useful - yet advanced - spell books.

Facing his reflection, he saw that he held no more resemblance to his original face. He looked like a completely different person now. The physical changes of using a Horcrux, though progressive, have all finally appeared. His hair was no more, and his eyes were a deep shade of crimson. He was completely pale, and his body had elongated, making him look bony and thin. And his nose - now mere slits where it should've been.

He held up a finger to the base of his neck, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. He placed a hand where his heart was supposedly located. Nothing.

Then, a sickening smirk appeared on his face.

"The stages of the Horcrux transmutation are finally complete. My heart has finally stopped." he thought, a victorius laugh erupting from his throat.

He walked over to the glass cupboard he had moved from the basement, and took out another of his horcruxes - the Diary.

He conjured up a quill, and scrawled 5 simple words onto the page before watching the ink fade away.

"I've _checked my vital signs._"

**_My shadow's the only one  
that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only  
thing that's beating  
Sometimes I wish someone out  
there will find me  
Till then I'll walk alone_**

Screams echoed all throughout the small Muggle village, as here and there, Muggles and muggle-borns were killed, others captured.

Voldemort laughed, a sickening sound coming from the base of his throat. He looked around, and saw fire burning through all the houses, and more screams reached his ears. Then he spotted a well-known muggle-born mother protecting her son.

"_Levicorpus!_" he shouted, dangling the baby boy into the air. He laughed again and looked at the mudblood wench.

"My baby!" she shouted, before being silenced by a Death Eater. Permanently.

Voldemort then placed the baby - non-too gently - into one of the cages.

He looked up, and saw tiny figures on brooms, coming towards them.

"Damn, it's the Order." he muttered. "_Sonorus!" _he exclaimed, pointing the wand at his neck.

"WE ARE DONE HERE! LEAVE! GO BACK!" he ordered, voice resonating throughout the entire village. He then cast _Quietus_ to bring his voice back to normal.

After he heard a few pops from his Disapparating followers, he cast _Morsmordre_ on the sky. Then, he used _Flagrate_ underneath the Dark Mark to spell out a message for the Order and the Ministry, before Disapparating as well.

"No one _out there will find me_."

**_I walk this empty street  
On the boulevard of broken dreams  
Where the city sleeps  
And I'm the only one and I walk a.._**

January 11, 1980

"My Lord," Severus Snape said, bowing before his Master.

"Severus, what news have you brought me?" Voldemort's voice rasped as Snape stood up.

"I have been spying on Albus Dumbledore, as you have asked, and just now, he was interviewing a Seer about the new Divinations professor position. She-"

"Silence, Severus. What good will this information do me?"

"My Lord, the Seer made a prophecy concerning you. It was about a child that may have the power to bring about your demise."

"A child? Bring about my _demise_? _My_ demise?" Voldemort asked, standing from his throne.

"I-it was a prophecy by Sybill Trelawney. She said that the child would be born on July, and-"

"Tell me, Severus, what was the entire prophecy?"

"The entire prophecy, my Lord?"

"Yes, Severus. Recite it. Now." Voldemort replied, growing impatient.

"Master, before I heard the rest of the prophecy, the bartender caught me eavesdropping, so I-"

"You were caught? You, were, _caught_?" the Dark Lord's eyes glinted a dangerous shade of red.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, please forgive me."

"I've no need for your apologies. Recite the part of the prophecy you heard."

"Yes, my Lord. '_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,_'" Snape finished, looking up at his Master.

"The first part seems to contain all crucial information. Let's hope nothing of importance is in the following verse, lest _you _meet your end, Severus," Voldemort said. He sat back down and waved his hand at Snape. "Call Lucius," was his only command.

Snape scurried off to find the Malfoy. A few minutes passed before Malfoy entered the room, followed by Snape.

"My Lord, you called?" Malfoy said, before bowing to his Master.

"Severus has uncovered a new prophecy concerning me. We must figure out to whom it pertains to."

"Of course, my Lord," Malfoy said reverently. Then, with a disgusted look on his face, turned to Snape.

"Well," he snapped, "what's the prophecy?"

After reciting the prophecy once more, Snape looked between his Master and his Master's right-hand man.

"I do believe, sire, that '_born to those who have thrice defied him_' may refer to the Longbottoms. Alice Longbottom is pregnant, and is expected to give birth in late July, '_as the seventh month dies_,'" Malfoy said, looking pleased with himself.

"Excellent work, Lucius. Now we must wait until Longbottom is born so that we can kill him before the prophecy can take effect." Voldemort said, an evil glint in his eye. His mouth formed into a sickening grin, but before he could make a more concrete plan, Snape's voice broke into his thoughts.

"My Lord, if I may, Alice Longbottom isn't the only Order member who is expecting," Snape said, pride swelling within him. "I know something Malfoy doesn't," he thought.

"What do you mean, Severus?"

"Lily Potter is expecting. Late July." he said.

"Lucius," Voldemort addressed, "you are an expert of Wizarding lineage. Tell me the blood statistics of the Longbottoms and the Potters."

"Master, both Longbottoms, Frank and Alice, are a well-off pureblood family, and James Potter comes from a long line of purebloods, rumored to be a descendant of the Peverells themselves, but...he married a filthy mudblood," - Snape winced slightly - "making their child nothing more than a halfblood."

"Hmm, a pureblood and halfblood, you say?" Voldemort turned his head to Malfoy, who lifted his chin higher.

"Yes, my Lord. And according to the prophecy, you are to choose your equal." Malfoy added.

"It's final, then. We wait until the after the child is born, and then we kill him before the prophecy takes effect." A deep laugh erupted from the base of his throat, and Malfoy smirked. Both he and Snape knew that their master would choose to get rid of the pureblood, and Snape was even glad that Lily wouldn't be harmed. After he stopped laughing, Voldemort continued on.

"Mudblood Potter would be so sad to see her halfblood son die at the hands of the one she so strongly opposes. Or maybe I should kill the wench, as well." Voldemort said, cackling evilly. He stood up and walked away from the room, leaving a gaping Malfoy and a heartbroken Snape in his wake.

"The power to vanquish me, they say? Ha! No one can have that power. I'm the only one with enough power to destroy all my Horcruxes. _I'm the only one..._"

_**My shadow's only one  
that walks beside me  
My shallow heart's the only  
thing that's beatin'  
Sometimes I wish someone out  
there will find me  
Till then I'll walk alone**_

October 31, 1981

The Dark Lord walked closer to the crib in the nursery, ignoring the two dead bodies on the floor behind him. The father of his target had done all he could, but he was no match for Voldemort.

"The father can't even defend himself," Voldemort thought, "how does he expect his son to vanquish me?"

The mother, on the other hand, was far easier. She begged too much, even if she knew it was futile.

"Filthy mudblood wench, did she think I would spare her son's life if she offered herself instead? Fool, I would have killed her anyway."

He looked down at the bouncing baby boy in the crib, who was unaware that his parents were no more. The Dark Lord listened, hearing nothing but silence at first, but a steady beating flowed into his ears, and he grinned in the sickening way that he does.

"Stupid boy, doesn't he know that his _heart's the only thing that's beating_?"

* * *

**Oh wow, I finally did it! I know, I changed some stuff from the books, but who doesn't, right? I hope that the "new" information about the horcrux transformation and the heart doesn't contradict anything significant in the novels. Anyway, I know that the story is crap, but could you please review? Flames welcome!**


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